After the Prayer
by Roaming Tigress
Summary: There is a twist to Gabrielle's affair with John after his visit to the hospital. This story takes place during episode eight, Guilty. Slash. Chapter three uploaded, one more to go.
1. Introductory

**After the Prayer **

by Roaming Tigress 

**Introductory**

My heart was heavy with grief as I sat beside the bed of my coma bound mother at the Sacred Hearts Hospital. She had been put in there as a result of a hit and run, and the coward who could care less of she lived or died was still at large. I, Carlos Solis, am certainly no saint. I make a profit at the expense of others. I admit to being jealous and possessive with a hair-trigger temper and occasional bouts of immaturity to add to the pile. Yet, in spite of all my sky-high faults, I have a heart as cold as it so often is.

Even as I held her hand and prayed for her recovery, I was unable to convey how I really felt inside.

My emotions, save for the anger and want of giving the driver a taste of his or her own medicine, seemed to have been trapped away in a box with the key thrown away. Mama taught me that showing emotion was for the weak, that the Solises find solutions to fix their problems and not cry over them. It was just a few weeks ago that she gave me a reminder of this in the form of a slap in the face. Right in front of her, I cried when I suspected Gabrielle was having an affair with another man. I had given everything she had ever wanted; dresses from Paris, jewelry from Milan, an expensive car, a big house. Where did I go wrong, does she not think I love her . . . ?

I snapped out of the memory of shaming my mother and cast my dark, spaniel-like eyes on the other side of her hospital bed. There, sitting her pert tush on the dressing table, was Gabrielle. For the uptenth time this week, she was busily filing her nails who already seemed to have been meticulously manicured. Her lack of apparent compassion for Mama's dire condition secretly gnawed at me, but I wasn't in the mood to argue and decided to let it to pass.

"You should go home and get some rest, eat something," Gabrielle told me as she told me as she nipped off a hangnail, giving me a reminder I hadn't eaten since the previous night.

"You have a ton of messages from work. Tanaka called. He said it was urgent."

My job could wait, babe. I'm a good liar; I could make a good excuse for Tanaka when he starts prying. "I need to be here if she wakes up."

"You can't go on like this," Gabrielle sharply insisted. "You have to take care of yourself."

"And what if she dies . . . ?" I quietly asked, blinking as I felt my eyes mist over. "People slip into comas all the time and never come out." My normally velvety voice with just a touch of an Mexican accent, had a catch to it.

"Don't say that!" Gabrielle firmly reassured. "We need to stay positive."

I paid no attention to the sound of the door opening, for I had figured it was just another nurse or doctor making his or her regular rounds on the patients. In the four hours I have been here, at least three came and went, checking for any changes in Mama's condition and nagging me about overstaying my visit. It was hard to stay optimistic when they informed me that there were no changes and muttered amongst each other about brain and respiratory function. I wanted to remind myself that Mama is a strong woman and that someday, somehow, she would awake from her coma and pull through.

"Mr. and Mrs. Solis?" Without even needing to turn around and look, I knew that our visitor was none other than John Rowland, our gardener -- and a damn fine one at that.

"Is it okay if I come in?" He asked tentatively, peeking his head in the door.

I nodded once, not letting my eyes off of my mother as he walked in, roses in hand. "Of course."

"Mr. Solis, I'm so sorry this happened . . ." John said with genuine compassion, handing me the bouquet that I placed in the vase by Gabrielle.

A lump in my throat warned me that my feelings were in danger of spilling out. I had to stay strong; I had to be a manly man and make it look like I was handling the situation better than I really was deep down inside. Out of desperation of not wanting to become a sobbing mess again, I pulled John into a tight hug and let out a deep, shuddering sigh.

"It means a lot that you came."

I tried to maintain my masculinity, but it was too late. John, the smart, intuitive boy that he is, had caught the concealed vulnerability in my voice. Once he got over the shock of having middle-aged man suddenly hugging him, he firmly returned the embrace.

"It's all right . . . Carlos . . ." The young man whispered., taking me by surprise by referring to me as his real name for the first time. His calloused hands that were strong enough to pull the toughest roots out of the ground were gentle as she soothingly rubbed my back and held me closer.

As I rested my whiskered chin on his solid shoulder, I could feel his heart steadily beating over mine. The inner child inside me had found his comfort that he longed for during this troubled time, and the man had found the unexpected -- attraction for another of the same sex.

I tried to push past away these unexpected feelings. After all, I am a married man and a very straight, masculine one at that. These emotions though, just like the man they belonged to, would not budge easily. Beyond my control, they overcame my apprehension and forced me to realize that I had really nothing to fight against. These were true, strong emotions that I was experiencing. With life being as short as it is, why should I try to throw away something that is meant to be enjoyed, as surprising as it may be?

I smiled a little as I subtly slid my right down towards John's waist, briefly forgetting that I was in the presence of my wife. Alas, before we could get any further, the developing intimacy came to an abrupt stop. The two of us had picked up an awkward vibe from Gabrielle, and John was the first one to break away from the embrace.

"Look, I think I'm going to go down to the chapel and pray. You want to come?" I asked, turning to her as I started to leave the room.

Gabrielle had been watching us the entire time with understandable bewilderment, and replied quietly. "Um, no, I think I will stay here with Mama."

"Is it all right if I come?" John asked.

"Of course, we need all the prayers we can get."

The characters John Rowland and Gabrielle/Carlos Solis are © ABC/Touchstone Television.


	2. Fight No More

**After the Prayer**  
by Roaming Tigres

**Fight No Longer**

Author's notes: Please don't tell me to change the pairing or comment on how much it would be better if it was a John/Gabby fic. Just write your own, mmkay?

"Oh my! What sins have you two boys been committing this time?" Father Crowley asked with an exasperated sigh of affection as he tended to the church's garden. He had seen us come up the steps and got up, dusting the dirt off of his pants. Without a doubt upon seeing me, he was planning on getting into the confession box. For some time now, the elder priest had known that I have been going off on the wrong path.

"It's not me this time, Father," I started, with a heavy sigh, rubbing my forehead to help ease a developing headache. "It's Mama. She was -- " I paused, not wanting to retell what had happened to her.

John firmly placed a hand on my shoulder and courteously completed my sentence. "Was involved in a hit-and-run last night."

"So I have heard," Father Crowley said as he clutching the sleeve of my white dress shirt in a gesture of sympathy. "Just so you know, while He may know about your sins and certainly cannot approve of them, He will not turn away from you during this difficult time. Likewise, neither will I and I will say a prayer for both your mother and yourself."

With a polite nod, I left Crowley to tend to the garden and led John inside and took a seat in a middle pew. Simple as the priest's words were, they helped reassure me that there was someone there who was looking out for the big, bad prince of sinners; he who had often neglected his wife's needs and beat up the cable man whom I suspected was cheating on her. Later, I would find out that the man was gay. Dear Lord, please watch over Mama. She may be a strong woman, but she can't go into this battle to survive all on her own. Maybe it sounds pathetic, maybe selfish or even both, but . . . I still need her. I need her validity, her . . . Protection, her guidance, her strength. Let her wake from her coma and recover. When it is her time to go with you, let her pass on from a natural cause. Please don't let the foolish actions of another tear her away from her most beloved and only son.

" . . . Amen." Slowly my compact form lurched forward a little way as I felt the lump in my throat had come back to me with a vengeance. I clenched my teeth and swallowed hard as I tried to choke it off, but I only succeeded in doing exactly what I absolutely did not want to do and quickly covered my face with my hands.

Oh, don't let him see you cry, Carlos, don't let him see you cry. He'll run off and tell his friends at school that Wisteria Lane's bitchy bearded businessman was crying over his mommy. Now that you've got what you wanted from him, thank John and send him on his way. Remember, you're above letting yourself be humiliated. I was at crosswords; I wanted to be with John and to tell him exactly how I felt for him, but at the same time I didn't want him to see me in the state of collapse.

"Mr. Solis . . . ?" John asked as he rested a hand on the back of my neck when he heard a stifled cry. "Just let it out. Believe me, it'll make you feel better. I know it's tough to show how you feel, being a guy and all, but -- "

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I shouted so loudly that it was surprising that Father Crowley didn't come running in to see what the matter was. As so the old guy wouldn't suspect a thing, I lowered my voice but remained in a blindedly angry state.

"What the hell did I do!" John gasped, throwing his hands back defensively as he moved away from me.

"I-I'm a man!" I stuttered angrily, clutching the bible that was beside me and violently throwing it at him as he recoiled. "I can't just cry and 'let it all out' -- I just can't! Don't you get that, stupid boy? Just leave me alone. I don't need you!"

"Alright, I get it. This is what I get back for trying to help you, right?" He asked furiously, turning his back to leave and give me the solitude I had demanded.

"It's nice to know your way of showing gratitude is by acting like a complete jerk and shoving away the people who care about you."I could have smacked him right there and then, but thankfully for him, my outburst -- short lived as it was -- had mentally worn me out and I collapsed back into the pew.

Tears that had been stored up inside of me for only God knows how long trickled down my high cheek bones. As my vulnerability came out of the woodwork at full-force, I could fight them no longer. It felt as if the woman who had protected me from a brutal beating by my drunken father had already left me, all alone with no place and nobody to turn to. The one person whom I thought was going to be by my side during this difficult time was running away from me, and I could only blame one person for it. That person was me.

How stupid could you be? John wants to help you and this is how you treated him in return?

With my body in a defeated, crumpled heap that threatened to fall off the pew, I watched forlornly as John placed his hand on the door handle and quietly called out his name.

"What?" John asked, raising a neatly-trimmed eyebrow as he turned around to face me.

"I don't want you to leave me."

Like an abused dog crawling back to its owner after being beaten, John decided to come back and do what he can to console me even after my bible-throwing temper tantrum. There was no doubt he expected me to lash out at him and this time he was he was ready. I don't deny the fact that I can be a frustratingly difficult person; I can be insanely self-absorbed and stubborn, and when I don't immediately get exactly what I want, I nag, I demand, I bully. Any of that would be enough for anyone to drive anyone away. For him to put up with me, though, I couldn't turn John away from me.

"I'm sorry, I . . . I just don't want her to die . . . " As John sat back down next to me, I looked up at him, trembling. There was much I had to say, but I spoke not another word as he stroked my jet-black wavy hair.

"You know what, though? I think she'd be proud to know that her son was so affected by what happened to her that he cried." Once bitten, twice shy, John spoke with an edge of fear to his voice. I could tell he didn't know what to say or how to say it. "You mean well," I said quietly, staring blankly at the stained glass image of Jesus as I felt the sun warm my weary face. "It's just that . . . It's just more complicated than that. Mama wants me to live up to her expectations -- " I became quiet again as the young gardener's hand rested on top of mine and gave it a light squeeze.

Without intending to, John had hit another sore spot of mine; my insecurity. "Nobody loves you like your mother does."

"That's the truth . . . " I said under my breath as I straightened my posture. I absentmindedly leaned into John's shoulder as my body shifted to the side, thanks to the pew's wood polish.

"I'm sorry -- "

I shook my head furiously, just wanting to just let it pass. "No, no, it's true."

"Oh? Well . . . You don't think Mrs. Solis loves you?" John awkwardly asked, not sure of what to make of the forty something man leaning against him in intimately close contact. Still, he made no effort to get away.

"I love Gabrielle -- love her to death -- but I just can't help but to feel that she has any sort of feelings for me. She tells me otherwise, but somehow, I just can't believe her." It pained me to explain that.

"How could she not love you?" John whispered as he reached his arm around and softly wiped away a tear with his thumb. "I know the reason you hired me instead of Mr. Kravitz who had all that landscaping experience in England's Kew Gardens, and . . . Honestly? I don't mind."

"Thank you . . . "

More tears made their way down my face, but these were tears of happiness and for the first time in what seemed to be years, I smiled. How John had found out about my scandalous little secret was anyone's guess, but I chose not to think too much into it. All that mattered was, that as rejection had been my greatest fear for as long as I could remember, I knew I had to repay John in some form another for the loyalty and acceptance he had bestowed upon me -- and knew just what to give him in return.

The characters John Lowland, Father Crawly and Carlos Solis are © ABC/Touchstone Television.


	3. I Will

**After the Prayer****  
** by Roaming Tigress

******I Will**

"Oh, it's really nothing, Mr. Solis. You don't have to -- "

John couldn't quite finish what he was saying for I interrupted his little moment of modesty with a kiss to the cheek. It was just a friendly kiss, just a little gift of appreciation. Nonetheless, after just learning about my secret, John didn't expect me to be so forward with him. His jaw practically hit the ground in shock from my way of repaying him for his kindness and I closed it shut with a flick of a finger.

"Thank you?" I asked, curling my body into the tiny bit of space between him and the edge of my seat. "I had to, but you can't let Gabrielle or anyone else know. If she ever found out I had feelings for someone else . . . I would be very surprised if I would ever see her again."

My casual attitude had turned to worry as I thought about life without Gabrielle, the only woman whom I felt was for me. Of all the models I saw on that New York catwalk a decade ago, she was the only one that really caught my eye. Gabrielle was the prettiest and also the smallest, standing in at only at five-foot three. Where she lacked in size, though, she certainly more than made up for in spirit. Although her looks caught my eye at first, I soon came to adore that feisty finesse. After three dates, the rest became history.

There is no shortage of attractive women in Fairview. Although I'd likely cry if I had sex with her, I have to admit, I am attracted to Bree's old-time Hollywood appeal. It's that perfect hair which Rex had found to be a turn-off because of the strange way it didn't move, those green eyes, that prim way she carried herself. I could easily dump Gabrielle and steal Mrs. Van DeKamp right from under the good doctor's nose, but no, I love Gabrielle too much to part with her. Perhaps there was something she wasn't getting from me . . . If only I knew what that something was, if only she could see what I was trying to do for her.

"You said you just had 'feelings' for me," John said with a light shrug. "I'm sure she'd forgive you if she did find out. It's not like you've been sleeping around with me."

"I'm afraid of living alone, dying alone. I-I can't loose her!" To emphasis on my desperation, I grasped the collar of John's shirt. "Women don't want a man who she thinks is being unfaithful, John. Once you get feelings for someone . . . Stuff just develops into something more from there on." Once my point was made, I let him go.

"Believe me, I want to keep this a secret just as much as you do," John replied indignantly as he rubbed his throat. "I'd be the talk of the school if I didn't keep my mouth shut about it."

"If you think high school gossip's bad, imagine what would happen if Martha Huber got wind of it!" I fretted, settling my head on his shoulder. "A married forty-three-year-old guy, attracted to a gardener who's still in high school? That doesn't sound too good." Uncertainty plagued me and I became once more awkward about my awakening feelings for John.

"What if Mama ever found out?" I asked, abruptly sitting upright.

After having raised me with traditional values, how would she take to finding out that her son has feelings for someone who was the same sex? I worried that I would let her down. What would be far worse than to have my marriage turned to nothing would be to be disowned by my own mother. Mama was proud of how her son grew up to who marry the pretty runway model; the only thing that would make her moreso was missing was the family she had pushed me to have well before I proposed. She had always expected nothing but the best from m and had always been pushing me to be better and better than all the children in school.

A part of me wanted to stay with John and enjoy the thrill of a sordid love affair. I realized that if my suspicions on Gabrielle are correct and if indeed she is having an affair, then why the hell can't I? My other not so daring half wanted to run away from what may or may not happen. Either decision would result in the same thing; what people don't know what's going on behind closed doors, can't possibly ever hurt. There would be no scorned lovers, no blackmail, no talk from nosy neighbours or any disowning parents. At the end, though, I chose neither decision.

"What should I do?" I asked, slipping into vulnerable dependency.

Although I hate to admit to it, I am -- shamefully -- a clingy and insecure mama's boy. Even as a man approaching his prime of his life, I still need someone around to guide me and to protect me and to look upon. With my mother in the condition that she was in and my wife emotionally unavailable at the moment, I was forced to look elsewhere for that person to depend on. If that someone was the gardener, then so be it.

"You just need to relax," John advised, watching me get up off my seat and grip onto the pew in front of the two of us. "It's really not good for your blood pressure to keep letting yourself worry like this."

I exhaled deeply and shook my weary head. There the boy goes again, talking about simple, well-meaning fixes. "My health is one of the last things that's on my mind, but thanks for the concern all the same. I just wish it were that simple. I wish I could just sit down and relax and be Mr. Optimistic, just like you are, but I'm not. My faults are what make me, John. I can't change that."

"Mr. Solis, I don't want you to change yourself. I just want you to take it easy. Your mother is in good hands right now." With a little bit of hesitation that I hoped was shyness and not distrust, he placed a hand between my shoulders and lightly massaged the area with the tips of his fingers.

I closed my eyes, savouring the sensation of his deepening touch soothe my tensed muscles. I was taken back to the days when Gabrielle used to give me the same treatment after a bad day at work. It was part of a bath time compromise; if I washed her hair, she would give me the massage. Those were the good times when she was happy, and I didn't suspect for a moment that she was being unfaithful.

The blissful daydream of better days faded as I as I opened my eyes again. The light coming through the stained glass windows betrayed newly shed tears and the reality that I was facing. I had to realize that I couldn't expect the young man to be anything but wary after he had faced my anger. I didn't want reality, though, and I prayed a selfish, pathetically hopeful prayer.

"I want him to trust me, love me . . ."

John's caress moved from my shoulder blades and down towards my chest, making its final stop at my pounding heart. With similar tenderness, he guided me to sit back in the pew and put my concerns of love and trust at ease with just two words.

" . . . I will."

With that, he brought his lips up to mine.

The characters John Rowland, Gabrielle, Juanita and Carlos Solis are © ABC/Touchstone Television.


End file.
